


The Visit

by inbox



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Financial Marriage, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inbox/pseuds/inbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A marriage in three parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Visit

The first time they go back to Novac in an official capacity is more underwhelming than expected. They make good time up the old highway, walking close enough that their shadows overlap on the torn up tarmac. Boone carries a rucksack full of their clothes and Arcade carries a nervous stomach ache, twisting a thick plain ring on his finger again and again until the skin underneath is irritated and pink. Boone had been insistent about the ring. _For the look of the thing_ , he said at the time, and set his expression stubborn enough that Arcade hadn't felt inclined to argue.

There's no reception when they make it to Novac and get a key to their room, top floor, far left. Cliff says hello. Andy nods and returns to his book. Daisy somehow both smiles like a sunbeam and gives them a look that's a little too shrewd for comfort, and says that it's good that the two of them have found each other. _Such good friends to watch over each other_ , she says. _Someone sensible to keep Arcade in line._  
  
When they make their goodbyes for the night and close the motel door, Boone rubs at his face and Arcade says, _shit, I can't believe..._ until he lays down on the bed and covers his face. They look at each other and laugh until they snort. It's the laughter of people who felt like they'd just dodged an embarrassing bullet.  
  


* * *

  
  
The second time they go back to Novac is to pick through Boone's old room and clean it out and arrange for it to be sold at a fair rate. They sit on the bed and sort through old clothes and mementos and tchotchkes, splitting them into piles to keep and piles to sell. Boone shrugs and pays more attention to his beer, and insists that he's got his photos of Carla and that's all he really needs from her, wants from her. Arcade rolls his eyes and says that he sounds very convincing, but when Boone isn't looking he puts aside a few things under a pillow to smuggle back to New Vegas, back to their small flat, to be arranged on the mantle where they belong.   
  
He knew Carla, sort of. Met her once or twice when he was making social calls to Daisy. He remembered making small talk with her while they waited in line for the kitchen tent, chatted about Freeside and the Vegas lights shining in through apartment windows so it was impossible to sleep. A pretty woman, smart as a whip with a sense of humour that flayed close to the bone. Boone says he would've got along with her like a house on fire, would've made his life miserable if they both ganged up on him at the same time.

Boone most definitely has a type, he thinks. He wonders if he even knows he's got a type. He wonders if it matters, and decides it doesn't. Not really.  
  
That evening they take their meal on the old highway overpass. They sit on the thick concrete guard rail, feet dangling over into space, and make conversation about what to do with the money, what comes next, where the future might lead them both. Boone starts to hand him half a cold steak sandwich made on grainy local bread, and on impulse Arcade cups his face in his hands and smooths his thumbs over Boone's unshaven cheeks and kisses him, gentle and unhurried under the watchful eye of the nightwatch sniper.  
  


* * *

  
  
The third time they go back to Novac is to see Daisy. Arcade fusses over her broken arm and tells her that she shouldn't be out salvaging scrap at her age before she chases him off. Boone makes himself busy soaping windows until they sparkle and mending the dripping tap in her bathroom, grinning to himself as he replaces the washers and listens to Daisy complain about her headstrong nephew.  
  
He cooks them some lunch once Arcade returns from interrogating the local sawbones, dishing up carrots and potatoes under beef shanks with a little soda bread on the side. Arcade primly insists that they all take a seat on the motel steps to get some vitamin D. _For bone health_ , he says pointedly. _No more broken wings_.  
  
Eventually Arcade digs up his courage and tells Daisy that he got married a while back. A spur of the moment thing, a practical arrangement suited to matters of pensions and wages, but he assures her that it's worked out well, better than he expected. Boone, he adds after a bit, as if Daisy needed the clarification that he meant the man sitting behind him, the one with a hand resting on Arcade's shoulder. The one shaking his head as he catches Daisy's eye, chewing meditatively at his meal and almost smiling as he listens to Arcade dig himself a deeper hole with every sentence.  
  
_You fool_ , Daisy tells him, and shreds meat off the shank bone with the side of her fork.  _I'm old, but I'm not blind._  
  
He was hungover when he signed the paperwork, adds Boone helpfully, and takes a piece of carrot from Arcade's plate. _Your darling boy all sauced up to say I do._  
  
_Appropriate_ , says Daisy, and pats Arcade on the knee, her tacit approval bestowed on them both. _You keep him in line, Mr Boone._

 _Yes ma'am_ , says Boone through a mouthful of food.  _I'll do my best._


End file.
